Memories of Another Time
by SilverWolf7
Summary: Jarlaxle and Zaknafein.  Friends, comrades and in the same class.  When they are sent on a field trip to the surface, they find themselves having an adventure they have both wanted their whole lives.  Is the ratign high enough?
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer - I usually forget t is, so I decided to be good for once. I do not own these characters. Apart from Phlann of House Vree, they all belong to R. A. Salvatore. Phlann is mine, however. If you wanna borrow him, go ahead, just ask first, ok?  
  
Memories of Another Time  
  
Zaknafein, a commoner of the 15th house of Menzoberranzan, House Do'Urden, had just started his first year at Melee Magthere. At 23, he was older than the nobles that were there and roughly the same age as the other common soldiers.  
  
He watched as the younger male in the bed beside him moaned in his sleep. Jarlaxle was his name and although he was a noble, nobody but the 20 year old knew what House he was from. It was never stated out loud, which made everyone either think he had his House's disfavour, or there was a secret he was keeping. Zaknafein was leaning more towards the latter thought.  
  
A frown formed on the younger's face as Jarlaxle muttered something in his sleep. Zaknafein had laughed the first time he saw this, thinking it strange. Drow did not dream, but this one obviously did. It was a known fact now, after he had woken the whole complex after he woke up screaming once. That had earned him a painful beating by one of the Master's.  
  
Going over to Jarlaxle's bed, Zak covered the younger drow's mouth with one hand, watching as eyes flew open from the slight touch. A muffled gasp was felt more than heard coming from the covered mouth.  
  
'Another night terror?' Zak signed in the intricate sign language of their people.  
  
Jarlaxle looked dismayed, but nodded his head, yes anyway. He shrugged, laid back down and concentrated on his wildly beating heart.  
  
Zak nodded silently, understanding that that one didn't like to talk about such things. If any of the other male's had dreams, they were usually talked about extensively. Although the only dreams he seemed to hear about had a lot of sexual activity happening in them. He too had dreams of that sort every now and then.  
  
Jarlaxle turned over and stared at the commoner that had the bed next to his. 'Thanks for waking me' he signed, glad every time the other male did so.  
  
'Are they the same, or are they different?' Zak asked, his facial expression and quick hand movements giving away his curiosity.  
  
'Same.' Came only one word for an answer. Zak raised an eyebrow. That was more information than he usually could get.  
  
'Maybe if you talk about it...' Zak started, but stopped at the sudden red glow of anger radiating from the other bed. 'Or not. It was just a suggestion.'  
  
'Go back to sleep.' Was all the reply he got from the nobleborn. Sighing, Zak nodded, laid down and was soon fast asleep.  
  
Jarlaxle was not so lucky. Every night since he had arrived at Melee Magthere for training as a fighter he had woken up by the same terrifying dream. He knew it would be impossible to even try to sleep again that night, so he glared angrily at the ceiling above his bed, rubbing at weary, red eyes. He also knew that Zaknafein had stayed awake until he had woken up, making sure he didn't scream again.  
  
He liked the older male that had decided to help him. For a drow, Zaknafein was alright and held to his promises, something that only he and Zaknafein shared it seemed. Each of the other drow in the bunkroom, he had learned fast, cared about no one else but themselves and the glory of their House.  
  
With a quiet sigh, Jarlaxle rolled onto his side and stared blankly at the wall he was next to. He stayed like that the rest of the night, pondering why he kept having the awful dream. He did know the reason, but was afaid to even think it.  
  
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The Loremaster had dismissed them to the menial tasks always given to them for being first-year students. Servants for older students, helping hands in the kitchens and, worst of all, cleaning the building.  
  
On the kitchen floor, scrubbing as best as the exhausting work allowed them, the first-year students - all 8 of them - were set to work. Zaknafein watched as one of the older students, a seventh year by the looks of him, came treading through the spot he had just cleaned, purposefully dirtying the floor again.  
  
Growling softly under his breath, he cursed the bastard with a hundred deaths in the Demonweb Pits, before angrily scrubbing at the spot again.  
  
He heard a quiet sigh next to him, then a little further down, as the other students had to also redo their work. The only one who seemed to have gotten out of that treatment was Jarlaxle who was a little further away from the rest of the group, slowly scrubbing the same bit of floor over and over, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.  
  
Zak got up off the floor, careful not to dirty the floor at the same time and made his way over to the younger male. He was soon scrubbing diligently at the floor next to the drow he had been helping.  
  
After an hour of this, he noticed the pace of the other male slow, then stop altogether. Zak watched a strange glint come into Jarlaxle's eyes.  
  
"Zak?" muttered the younger of the two, turning his gaze to the one who kept him out of trouble so often.  
  
"Yes?" Zak asked, seeing the other begin to sway on his position on the floor.  
  
"Catch me." Replied Jarlaxle, before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell forwards almost into the bucket of water he had been using to scrub the floor with.  
  
Zaknafein managed to catch the drow and keep him from knocking over the water, but didn't know what to do after that. Grabbing onto Jarlaxle, he picked him up and moved him to one side of the kitchen and laid him on a table. It was then that one of the master's decided to walk in, this one the Master of Weapons, Dantrag Baenre.  
  
The master was dismissing them when he realised that one of their number was asleep on a table. Anger immediately made his face flash a dangerous red colour. Until he noticed the being on the table to be Jarlaxle. The Master rolled his eyes, ordered him to be carried back to the first-year bunkroom, and to be left alone to face punishment later.  
  
Zaknafein didn't waste any time in picking the unconscious drow up and carrying him back to his bed. By the time Jarlaxle was in his cot in a deep sleep, Zak was in his own, exhausted.  
  
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Zaknafein woke the next day, still tired, but ready for the day ahead of him. Looking at the bed next to his, he noticed it was empty. Frowning slightly, he turned to the bed on his other side. His frown deepened when he noticed that bed, too, was empty.  
  
He suddenly bolted upright, noticing he was the only one in the room. He had slept in. He had never rushed so much in his life as he changed from his night clothes into his normal clothes and ran to the Loremaster's class, hoping to all the gods who were listening that he wasn't too late.  
  
He made it to the class just as the Loremaster himself arrived and while he was given an awful look as if to tell him he would be in trouble later, the adult male let him join his classmates.  
  
Silently he sighed, glad to know he wouldn't be punished in front of the rest of the class. Looking around for the one drow he could class as a friend, he was surprised to find Jarlaxle was absent from the room they we in.  
  
Frowning slightly, he sat down where he usually did, next to a male commoner of House Vree by the name of Phlann.  
  
The lesson bored him, as all these drilling lessons seemed to. What did he care that they were supposed to hate their surface cousins, or any other race that was not his own. He didn't, no couldn't, hate a race he had never seen and probably never will.  
  
By the time the class was dismissed, he was just lucky he hadn't fallen asleep and the Loremaster thought the glazed look in his eyes were caused by fantasies of slaughtering the faeries that had banished them to the Underdark.  
  
He gladly stayed in the room for his punishment...to clean the floors by himself, it seemed, would teach him not to sleep in. By the time he had finished the job, he was determined to ask one of the masters where Jarlaxle was.  
  
As the Loremaster came back to tell him to get out of the classroom, he was confronted with a determined looking Zaknafein. He was bombarded with the one question he hoped not to hear.  
  
"Where is Jarlaxle?" Zak asked, the question coming out a command which was not necessarily good for his overall health. He had managed not to be whipped yet, a feat not many in their class had achieved.  
  
"He has been placed in a private room until he wakes." The master replied, monotone voice ringing loudly within the empty room.  
  
"He is sleeping? Has he been punished?" Zaknafein couldn't help but wonder. He had slept in and barely got away with a slight punishment. Jarlaxle, it seemed, had slept the entire day away.  
  
The Loremaster smirked. "Feeling bitter? Jarlaxle we had to make an exception for. This is not the first time he has collapsed but will be his last. You will make sure of that."  
  
"Me? What am I supposed to do? Knock him hard enough atop the head so he sleeps all night instead of a few minutes?!" He said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.  
  
A frown made its way to the Loremaster's face, deepening the lines on his face. "No. He was supposed to be taking a potion every night, but has decided against doing so. It is specially made for him and his nightmares."  
  
Zaknafein looked curious. "Do you know what they are about?" He asked, wanting to know what could plague the mind of his friend.  
  
The Loremaster was about to reply, but was stopped by Dantrag. The Weaponmaster of the school glared at the young drow, before beckoning him closer.  
  
Zak made his wary way over to the Master, head down, not wanting to anger the volatile drow in front of him. He lifted his head when ordered to.  
  
"Jarlaxle has woken and would like to talk to you." Dantrag announced, boring his angry golden eyes into the young first-year student.  
  
Zak nodded, before following the adult to where the single rooms were. He had never been in this part of the complex before and looked about him eagerly.  
  
He was ushered roughly into one of the end rooms, where a scowling Jarlaxle was sitting on the bed.  
  
"They told you about that little potion I'm supposed to be taking? Hah! That is punishment on your behalf more than it is mine." Jarlaxle stated, anger clearly heard in his voice. The younger drow crossed his arms over his stomach as his scowl deepened. "The stuff tastes horrible!"  
  
Zaknafein shuffled closer to the bed and nearer to his doom. "Does it stop the night terrors you keep having?" He asked, seeing the scowl turn to a slight frown, making the younger's handsome face seem less severe.  
  
"Yes." Jarlaxle replied, shoulders stooping as he realised now Zak would make sure he took the foul smelling and even worse tasting concoction.  
  
"Good, because I don't want to get into trouble for sleeping in again." Came Zak's answer, before the elder of the two walked all the way to the bed and sat on it next to Jarlaxle.  
  
Both got up and left the room, glad that Dantrag had seemed to have left them alone throughout their encounter. They made their way back to the first-year bunkroom, before going to sleep once again, Jarlaxle having taken whatever it was he was ordered to take and Zaknafein making sure he did.  
  
They Both slept in pleasant blackness for t e rest of the night.  
  
A/N - Ok, yes, Jarlaxle did seem mighty wimpy in this first chapter, but don't worry, next chapter he will...be more himself. Well, still, I hope you enjoy this story. Please r/r or I might not continue it. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Jarlaxle woke slowly. Without one thought of what the other males thought of him, a lazy grin spread across his face as he stretched just as lazily. He felt better than he had in a long time, his muscles thrumming with energy he had been lacking for days.  
  
There was a strange taste in his mouth. It wasn't the same taste he usually had after taking that awful concoction. He pondered this for a few seconds before shrugging and sitting up. He looked over to Zaknafein and saw the other asleep. He grinned wickedly, before shaking the older drow awake.  
  
"Mmmpph, go 'way." Came the mumbled reply.  
  
Jarlaxle chuckled. "Not this day. Come on. I would like to be doing something today, but first I am having a bath."  
  
"You woke me for that?" An angry Zak asked as he opened his eyes to glare at Jarlaxle.  
  
At that, Jarlaxle laughed, feeling extremely happy this day. "No. I woke you for a little role reversal." At saying this, he jumped off the bed and back on to his own, bouncing on it like a child before quietly sitting down.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" Zak asked, sitting up and grabbing a pair of clean clothes from the trunk at the end of his bed that held his possessions. He got up and headed for the direction of the bath house.  
  
"Nothing." Replied the younger of the two, before quickly grabbing his own clothes and following after Zaknafein.  
  
Today was one of the rare days that no classes were held, which also meant no chores. It was also the first of these free days the first year students would have.  
  
After bathing and wandering about for a few meaningless minutes, they decided to go waste the rest of the day in the Bazaar. Jarlaxle practically dragged Zaknafein there in excited energy.  
  
Both had tied their white hair into loose pony tails at the napes of their necks, trying to keep it out of ever alert eyes. Still, that didn't stop Jarlaxle's hair from flopping directly into his line of vision, his hair having a natural curve to it that annoyed him greatly.  
  
"I swear one day I will cut all this off..." He mumbled as he once again pushed his hair behind one of his pointed ears.  
  
Zaknafein laughed. "Cut it off? Why not go that extra step and shave it off?"  
  
At that, both the males had a good laugh and turned on to a street only the most depraved or desperate of drow males goes down. The courtesans were now out and about, trying to sell their bodies.  
  
"Well, well, a couple of young ones come my way." A female commoner stated as she spotted them. She was dressed so gaudily, it was a wonder to the males that she was able to get any clients at all.  
  
They kept walking, hastening their steps to get out of the street they were on as fast as possible. Soon they had reached their destination and went into the nearest inn.  
  
"Have you ever been in one of these places before?" Zaknafein asked Jarlaxle, seeing the younger shake his head, no.  
  
"I haven't gotten around much of the town...a sheltered life I've lead." Jarlaxle stated, looking about himself in awe. He vowed that one day he would get to know the city he lived in from the outside in.  
  
Zak chuckled. "You are noble are you not? Aren't you supposed to know these kinds of places?"  
  
Jarlaxle shrugged, not really caring. "Haven't thought too much about it." He stated, going over to a seat and flopping himself into it with all the grace of a kobold slave.  
  
Zaknafein followed and took the seat across from the suddenly sad-looking drow. "Are you sure there is nothing wrong?"  
  
Jarlaxle shrugged. "Yes. I have a headache, but that is natural after having that god-awful stuff they are making me drink. It'll go away soon."  
  
Zaknafein stared, then shrugged, not truly knowing what to say. "Are these...moods you keep on going through normal too?"  
  
"What moods? You are making me sound like a female at that time."  
  
"You are acting like it."  
  
Jarlaxle slammed his palm against the table between them. "Don't tell me what I am supposed to be feeling. You know, I actually liked you...now I think I might have been suffering from sleep deprived madness." With that said, he got up and stormed out of the inn, not once looking back.  
  
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Zak glared angrily down at the table he was sitting at, before he ordered a drink. He was not about to go running after Jarlaxle, not while he was in this mood.  
  
He did not understand that one at all! He had been put out a bit by the happy mood the other had been in this morning, but his mood had been changing continuously since then.  
  
Shaking his head Zak finished his drink before making his way slowly back to the Academy. He was upset and didn't understand why. Sighing, he made it to the pyramidal building and took off towards his cot. Not to sleep, but to think. It was the only place deemed quiet enough for such an act.  
  
Falling on to the bed he rolled onto his back and rested his head on his hands. His thoughts turned immediately to the fight he had just had. There was something wrong with Jarlaxle, he could tell. The younger drow not telling him what was wrong didn't surprise him as he never seemed to talk about his problems.  
  
Growling softly, he sat back up and took a look around the deserted room. It was then his eyes came to rest on the empty bottle that had held whatever it was Jarlaxle had drank to stop his nightmares. Picking it up, he sniffed at it, quickly pulling it out from under his nose, suddenly pitying the younger drow. At the bottom of the phial was a few drops of yellow liquid left.  
  
Taking the bottle and placing it carefully in a pocket of his pants, he once again left the bunk room and went back outside, this time turning towards the building across the way. Sorcere, the training school for wizards, where someone was bound to be able to tell him the ingredients of the potion.  
  
He walked up to the doors, but paused to think about what he was doing before knocking softly. The door opened slowly and a student wizard poked out his head.  
  
Frowning, the wizard-in-traing glared down at the boy at the door. "What do you want?!" He barked, taller and older and therefore more powerful than the small one in front of him, he felt it his duty to fry the brat if he tried anything.  
  
Zak shifted from foot to foot nervously, before reaching into his pocket and drawing out the phial. "Are you good with potions?" He asked quietly, wincing at the sudden anger of the older drow.  
  
"Of course! I am in my final year, if I didn't by now, I wouldn't be here would I?!" The wizard shouted.  
  
Zak gulped, and held forth the phial. "Would you be able to tell me the ingredients that make this potion?" He asked, seeing a glimmer of interest spring into the wizards eyes.  
  
"I do not know, but I could try. Come back in a few days and ask for me...my name is Rizzen."  
  
Zak nodded, handed the phial over and watched as Rizzen put it safely away.  
  
Having done that, Zak was feeling a little better. If he knew what it was that was making his friend act all strange he would be able to help and that dreaded potion was the only clue he had.  
  
Making his way back to the inn he was at earlier, he kept an eye out for Jarlaxle and for anyone willing to stab him. Going inside he found that it now held two others of his class, he joined them and ordered a drink. While having his fun there, he forgot about Jarlaxle completely.  
  
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Jarlaxle had taken off in the direction of the clawrift. Not knowing why, he used his innate gift for levitation to drop down to the nearest ledge. At least down here he knew he could be alone.  
  
He shouldn't have yelled at Zaknafein, but couldn't help it. A sudden wave of anger had taken him over that he couldn't stop. Sighing, he levitated down even further, stopping on a ledge just before the spell ran out.  
  
Looking about him, he noticed some caves that looked good enough to walk into and explore. The only things that lived down here being small bats and kobolds. Curiosity tugged at him and he was soon at the mouth of the nearest entrance, staring into the blackness. No heat signatures meant that nothing lived in this cave.  
  
Putting his hand onto the left side of the wall, he followed it through twists and turns, before heading back the way he had come, swearing to himself that he would come back down here again with a source of light. Maybe he would bring Zak along with him...Zak.  
  
"What did I say?" Jarlaxle whispered to himself, not too sure of the answer. All of a sudden he felt restless, but yet again he didn't know why.  
  
Sighing, he made his way out of the cave and back up to solid ground, before making his way back to the academy. He looked over to Narbondel, the huge clock of glowing light and rock, and saw that he had lost time while exploring. Shrugging, he made it back to the first year bunk room to see the other seven students already in there, chatting companionably for once, about their day.  
  
"Where did you go?" Asked one. "Do anything interesting?" Another asked, before the questions came thick and fast. He stopped them quickly with a withering glare when he was asked if he had taken part in anything to do with the pleasures of the flesh.  
  
"I explored the city." He stated, his anger clearly coming through not in voice, but in the sudden red glow of his face.  
  
The other males left him alone at that. He was tired suddenly and thought that had something to do with his body's needs to catch up on lost sleep. He grabbed at the tiny, full phial holding the damnable stuff he was forced to take, downed it all in one gulp and immediately felt better.  
  
Not caring of anything at that moment, he closed his eyes and was almost instantly asleep.  
  
A/N - Yes, I do know that this sucks a little, but I am having fun writing it...I am overwhelmed that the first chapter got 11 reviews...I was expecting anything between 4-6...ah well, hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the first. Lol, I couldn't help but add in Rizzen. He always struck me as older than Zak, so he is in this story. Sorry if I got anything wrong.I do not know the city as well as some others might. Sorry also if the review part is in a larger script size than the rest...in fact, if you know where I went wrong, can you please tell me?  
  
Like always thanks to these people for reviewing: Ivar, She-Cat, DragonEyeZ, LunaLillium, Sylvan, Oracle10, RealmWriters.  
  
Some answers to questions some people posed, or comments said.  
  
IceBlade740 - Yes, I am aware of the hardened nature of drow.It just didn't seem to fit in with the story itself, though little snippets of it will be put in here.hehe, I agree that there are too few stories of these two, who are my two favourite characters.  
  
Singvogel - What he dreams about you will learn later.as to him being sacrificed? Yes that will come up in the story, but later on.  
  
Linn-Minmay - Trust me when I say that the last paragraph of Servant of the Shard had me speechless. Jarlaxle is cool, hehe! He is my favourite..ask DragonEyeZ.I am obsessed with him.  
  
Elycee - Wow! Glad that this is one of your favourite stories on this site. I give you permission to steal my idea of the nightmares. I'll be waiting to see what you do with the idea! 


	3. Chapter Three

Memories - Chapter Three  
  
Jarlaxle glared at the old male beside him, snarling his thoughts on the topic of today's lesson. Why did he have to learn about things and races of the surface world anyway? It wasn't like he was ever planning on going there.  
  
The whip at the teacher's side rose and fell next to him, as if to scare him. "You missed." He stated, a daring look coming to his eyes.  
  
This time the whip didn't miss its target, wrapping itself around his back, making the young drow wince at the sudden feeling of pain it caused. Again it came down upon his back, then again.  
  
Ten times his back was hit, none of his classmates coming to his aide, not wanting the same treatment. He could see the worry in Zaknafein's eyes, even though they had been fighting for a week.  
  
Jarlaxle was irritable and hard to get along with to all though, and he knew not why. Usually, he was quite happy for company, unusual in his race for his ability to make friends. Sure it is not the true friendship someone from the surface might feel, but other drow, while he had been told he was annoying, seemed to like him. Seemed being the operative word.  
  
He laughed, the sound coming out strangled from his throat that was sore from trying to keep inside screams at the pain he was in.  
  
He was getting strangely used to staying quiet, this punishment had been given to him so often in the past week. He had quit caring sometime the past few days.  
  
The whip started to rain down on his back again, but still he kept his silence. With an angry growl, the Loremaster pushed him onto his back.  
  
The welts on his back, some open wounds, sent pain through his entire body as they came in contact with the hard floor. He cringed as the whip began to cut its way through his stomach. This was new.  
  
He bit his lower lip to stop any sound that was trying to escape him. In seconds, he had bit through skin hard enough for blood to begin to fill his mouth and drip down his chin. He began panting, not wanting to give in.  
  
"Scream and I will stop." The Loremaster announced, hitting the whip into his unprotected stomach with abandon.  
  
Jarlaxle couldn't trust himself to open his mouth lest he do what the older drow asked of him. Instead, he shook his head. This seemed to anger the teacher immensely and the next fall of the whip cut deeply into one of his cheeks.  
  
Without thought he gave in. His scream echoed through the room they were in. The whip came down on the opposite side of his face, cutting his other cheek open before the punishment stopped.  
  
Jarlaxle clutched at his face, trying to stop it bleeding, in case he got into trouble once again for dirtying the floor.  
  
"Get up and get out of here. You will not get off this lightly next time. Do not dare to give me any more cheek boy!" The Loremaster shouted.  
  
Jarlaxle nodded, slowly getting to his feet and walking to the ward that housed an apothecary. He needed to heal before he did anything else...the training with weapons starting the next week, allowing him to finally get rid of the Loremaster who hated him so much. He would very much like to be alive by that time.  
  
Someone was in there already. It was Phlann, but he had been in class a second ago, hadn't he? He was silent as he observed the other male as he tinkered with one of the vials, before putting a small satchel of something away into a hidden pocket. Jarlaxle quickly hid himself as Phlann left the room hurriedly and ran back to the classroom.  
  
Curiosity peaked, he moved to the shelf that the other student had been snooping around. He was instantly drawn to one potion in particular...it was his.  
  
He carefully examined it, but it had the same colour, scent and, after tasting a little of the liquid, he scowled as he found it still had the same awful taste.  
  
Shrugging, but deciding to forgo the stuff for one night just in case, he went to another shelf and picked out all the extra healing potions he could hold...which meant two, as his back and stomach wouldn't allow him to lift any more than one in each hand without overly straining.  
  
He took them back to the dorm room and drank them as he made his way to his bed. They began working almost instantly and he sighed as his sore flesh began to knot itself together. It hurt a little, but at least he shouldn't scar.  
  
A few minutes later, he wasn't only healing nicely, he was also bored. It was as he was going to get up that Zaknafein made his way into the room looking for him.  
  
"You healed yourself...you are just going to get into more trouble for doing so." Zaknafein announced stepping closer.  
  
Jarlaxle tilted his head to one side, hair immediately falling into his red eyes. "Did you see Phlann leave the class at any time?"  
  
Zak shook his head, no. "I did see him enter again. Our Loremaster saw him coming back in, but he never so much as looked at him twice. Maybe he got permission to leave before the lesson started?"  
  
Jarlaxle nodded. "He has been adding something to my potion. I am not going to take it tonight...see if he notices..."  
  
Zak started. "That reminds me. I took a sample of your potion to Sorcere to be examined. I wanted to see what the ingredients were...you have been acting strangely since you began taking it."  
  
Jarlaxle frowned, but didn't say anything, now thinking it was not so much his fault as Phlann's for his ever changing moods. "And?"  
  
"And I forgot about it." Zak stated, smiling a little. "Sorry."  
  
Jarlaxle rolled his eyes. "Well, that's helpful..." He grumbled, before sighing. "So, what menial task have we been set today and am I to be a part of it?" Jarlaxle asked, changing the subject to what he knew Zaknafein was there in the first place.  
  
Zak rolled his eyes. "We are supposed to be mucking out the lizard pens...can you believe it?!"  
  
Jarlaxle scrunched up his face. "I hate doing that...though I have no problems with the lizards themselves. I cannot wait until we learn to ride them. I want one!" He stated the last with a longing look in his eyes that made Zaknafein laugh.  
  
"Well, if we don't leave now, imagine what everyone will be thinking." The older drow said slyly.  
  
Jarlaxle grinned wickedly, before throwing a hand around the other male's waist. "Let them think what they want!" He stated, before leading them both to the lizard stables.  
  
The first thing that they saw were stares, the second were scowls from some, grins from others.  
  
The stables were not that messy and, getting a rake each, Jarlaxle and Zaknafein chose a stall each and began to work. Working apart seemed to prove that their entrance was a joke, as most immediately forgot and went back to the task at hand.  
  
Before long, they were joined by an irate Lawmaster. "Jarlaxle! Follow me. You had no right to heal yourself."  
  
Frowning slightly, Jarlaxle did as he was bid, not liking the sudden glint in the adult male's eye as he was taken away from his classmates.  
  
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Swiping sweat out of his eyes, Zaknafein put away the shovel he was holding and made his way to bathe. While the lizard pens were not that dirty to begin with, there were quite a few of them and the job had taken most of the day.  
  
Too busy working as hard as possible, he was slightly surprised when he heard the other first-years talking about Jarlaxle's departure with their Loremaster.  
  
Hurriedly drying himself off and going back to the dorm, the first thing he noticed was that Jarlaxle was not there.  
  
Not thinking anything of it, he shrugged, got dressed and crawled into his bed, tired after his day of hard labor.  
  
He was woken by a soft sound later that night. Peering around, he noticed the bed next to his was occupied. Jarlaxle must have come back. Again he heard the sound that had woken him. A small, almost indiscernible whimper.  
  
Hopping out of his bed, he crept to the other side of Jarlaxle's bed, minding not to get stuck between the wall and a nightmare-crazed Jarlaxle.  
  
His friend was awake though, that much was certain. Red eyes squinting in pain, mouth open in a grimace that showed what he was feeling.  
  
Making sure everybody else was asleep, he signed to the younger drow, not wanting to be caught talking. 'What happened?' He asked, getting nothing but the slightest shake of the head as an answer.  
  
Worry suddenly coursed through Zak's body, making him gently grip the sheet and peeled it off Jarlaxle. Quite literally.  
  
Eyes shut, teeth clenching, it looked to Zak as if the other wanted to howl in agony. The sheets were covered with blood. Not thickly coated, but enough to have to warrant pulling at wounds.  
  
The first thing Zak noticed was Jarlaxle's clothes were shredded. The next was that what could be seen of his skin was nothing but angry criss- crossing lines common from whips.  
  
He almost gasped at how badly whipped his friend had been. Realising that not to be a good idea, he managed to only grimace in sympathy.  
  
'Are you hurt anywhere else?' He signed, noticing a small nod. 'Where?"  
  
At that, two shaking hands made one word. 'Everywhere.'  
  
Swiftly going towards his things, Zak meant to find a salve to put on the wounds to try and stop the burning. He was stopped by a sudden, hard grip.  
  
'Don't. Leave it, or you could make things worse.' Jarlaxle signed to him.  
  
Frowning, but nodding his agreement at the logic of that, he got slowly back into his bed.  
  
Neither slept anymore that night.  
  
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Rizzen was frowning at the last component in the potion. It was not only a strong drug, but addictive. It was also very common for people of ill-repute on the surface.  
  
As far as he could discern of the potion, it was a somewhat complex potion to make and he thrilled at the thought of unravelling something like this.  
  
As far as he knew of the other ingredients, it was a sleeping draught of some kind. One that should not be addicting. The drug made it so.  
  
Finding out this tidbit, now all he had to do was wait for the drowling to come back. He was hoping to have a rather meaningfull 'chat' with the young one about certain drugs and what they can do to one's body. Followed by a few charm spells to make him listen to reason.

A/N - Wow! I can't believe this story has gotten 20 reviews! In two chapters! I honestly didn't think it would be this popular. So sorry for this chapter. It is bad, I do realise this, but it was needed for the rest of the story. This story is not slash, just for all you people wondering.  
  
Also, sorry for how long it took to update. I am currently writing 9 different stories now, from three different fandoms, and am dividing my time between them, since some are challenges with a deadline. I apologise whole-heartedly for the wait on this and all my other chaptered stories.  
  
Thanks go to Lord Evil, one-and-many, BelleDayNight, singvogel, Sylvan, DragonEyeZ, ChichiX (twice hugs) and Lynn-Minmay for reviewing the last chapter. 


	4. Chapter Four

Memories - Chapter Four.

Pain was a constant. Jarlaxle's back was still injured, sure, but this pain wasn't from a flesh wound of some kind. It felt as if it was in his very bones.

Turning to one side, he groaned and managed to drag himself to his feet. He only remembered then, his mind muddled with pain, that he had also been beaten.

And still, he was ordered to class. Of all his luck, he had to go today, lest he get another punishment worse than last nights...

Slowly he made his way to bathe, Zak staying next to him, ready to catch him whenever he stumbled. He stubbornly stayed on his feet, not accepting help if he needed it...

Until he tripped over his own feet. Zak stopped his fall, but jarred the injured arm badly. Without meaning to, he cried out in pain.

"Are you alright?" Zaknafein asked, his voice giving away what Jarlaxle could only call concern.

"No." His reply was short and to the point. It held every ounce of the pain he was feeling behind it. Oh, how he wanted a healing potion or three...or better yet, his own potion so he could sleep through the pain.

A sudden craving for doing just that took him then, but he shrugged it away. He wouldn't take it until he knew just what Phlann had added into it.

Sighing, he limped his way to the bathing room, glad when the water helped ease a few of his aches. He could have stayed in the warm water all day, but was jarred out of his musings when Zak decided it was time to get ready for today's lesson.

Slowly he dressed, putting on loose fitting clothes that would not irritate his bruises and welts. Before long, they were making their way to class, the other boys in their class with them.

As the Loremaster came into view, Jarlaxle couldn't help the instinctive reaction of shying away from the adult. Something that must have delighted the male, if the smug grin on his face meant anything.

Letting out a small sigh, Jarlaxle followed the rest of his class into the room, already counting down the minutes until he would be free from the evil clutches.

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Jarlaxle slumped exhausted onto his bed. He had managed to go the entire day without getting into trouble, a feat that, for his current behaviour, was amazing.

The lessons had dawdled their way by, but he had avidly paid attention so he could answer any questions he was asked right away. It seemed every question asked had been aimed his way today.

After that, he was sent to be an errand boy for some 7th year students. Running about all day had not helped him in the least, opening some of the wounds that had managed to close the night before.

He closed his eyes, but found himself unable to sleep. Oh how he wanted to! Tired physically, he lay on his bed and begun thinking about what it is Zaknafein would discover about the potion.

The older male had gone off to the tower of Sorcere to learn what he could. All Jarlaxle could think of was that the commoner better hurry up. He was feeling impatient.

Grimacing slightly, he made himself as comfortable as possible on his bed and put a hand over his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep.

He had almost succeeded when Zaknafein came back, a look of determination on his face. "Rizzen wants to see you personally ... something about signs or symptoms. Withdrawal he called it though. I haven't really got an idea of what that might be, only that it has something to do with coming off drugs. I heard some of the House soldiers talking about it one day..."

Jarlaxle sighed loudly. "He wants to see me now?"

"No. Rest first, but don't have the potion...tomorrow after our chores are completed."

Yawning, Jarlaxle nodded, once again covering his eyes to fall asleep. He didn't manage to the rest of the night.

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Zak rolled over and hopped out of bed before the dagger fell. Looking blearily about, he realised that he was acting rather foolishly. Nobody was anywhere near his bed, apart from the sleeping neighbour on one side and a quietly chuckling Jarlaxle on the other.

Blinking, he flopped back down on his bed, still expecting the sacrificial dagger to fall and claim his heart. He wondered if it was dreams like that, that continually plagued his friend. If so, he could understand why Jarlaxle had problems sleeping.

"Nasty dreams?" The person foremost in his thoughts asked, though it sounded much like a statement. A quiet laugh at his expense followed.

"Perhaps..." Zak muttered, not in the mood to share his nightmare with the younger drow sitting up on the bed nearest the wall.

"Welcome to my world. Hope you enjoy it. If you end up anything like me, you will wish for sleep before too long."

"Thanks for trying to lift my spirits...not very drowlike of you."

Jarlaxle snickered. "I am nothing like the sheep you see about you. I will do my own thing, regardless of being a male in a female oriented world."

"You are braver than me then." Zak answered back, not really thinking he would ever be able to act like his friend. He was a commoner, born practically into slavery for the House his father had worked in, his mother no higher up in ranks apart from the fact that she was a she and not a he.

"Bravery has nothing to do with it. It is me. If the females don't like it, they can either put up with it or kill me, and they don't dare kill me, insolent or not."

Zak turned to his side and looked at Jarlaxle. "Why won't they dare?"

The young drow smiled at him, an annoying habit of his that immediately made everyone about him drop their guard slightly. Manipulative sod that he was.

"That, my friend, is a secret." Was the only answer that he got.

"Do you know you are really annoying, sometimes?!" He said, before being hushed by a glare from the male on the other side of him. He had forgotten to lower his voice.

"Of course!" Jarlaxle stated, his voice high but not a shout, the rest of the males woken up by the noise. Never had so many articles of clothing been flung in one of the bunkrooms before.

After a while, all was quiet again. Drow after drow going back to their sleep. Zak found himself drifting back off to sleep, but not before remembering that he had to take his noisy friend to meet with the junior wizard tomorrow. The thought made him uneasy. He fell to sleep, strange yet unknown thoughts and dreams running about in his head.

A/N - Hmmm, this chapter is a whole lot shorter than the others isn't it? Sorry about that, but this was where I was told to stop. By my imaginary, almost non-existant, muses. Sorry also for this chapter not being the best.

Ah well, thank you to all who have reviewed.

glomis, Em Starcatcher, Dark Epiphany, Chickens, Kurai Catt, Lynn-Minmay.


	5. Chapter Five

Memories of Another Time

Chapter Five

The two drow made their anxious way towards the building in the shape of a stalagmite that wizards learnt their craft. Zaknafein looking about, hoping they weren't caught by anyone, Jarlaxle too preoccupied with thoughts of what would happen because of the drug slipped into his drink. He hoped it was nothing too serious.

"What do you think will happen to me?" Jarlaxle asked the only one who had stuck by him even with his strange mood swings.

"I don't know? I guess that is what we are going to go and find out...though the thought makes me rather wary. I don't particularly like wizards." Zak replied, looking ahead of them now, at the building they were slowly making their way towards.

Jarlaxle nodded, but didn't say anything. He was beginning to feel slightly ill, and he was now realising that it wasn't from any drug use. It was from the sinking fear that something terrible was going to happen. Try as he might, he couldn't shake off the rather strange and definitely unwanted feeling.

They made their way to the door and, to the surprise of both the young drow, Rizzen was waiting for them, leaning against the side of the building, his robes making him seem more imposing than he truly was...or so they hoped.

"So...this is the one you were talking about yesterday." The wizard stated, moving from his spot to stand in front of Jarlaxle. "You are going to be in such trouble when you begin showing the signs of what you have been ingesting!"

"Signs? What are these signs? And I did not mean to take something addictive. My potion was tampered with thank you very much." Jarlaxle was being sarcastic, he knew, but he just couldn't help it. He was feeling irritable. He had little sleep, he was beset with thoughts of taking the potion regardless of what might happen, and his stomach was feeling a little cramped.

Rizzen grinned wickedly at him. "Mood swings, of which you have been experiencing already, cramps, nausea, vomiting. Oh yes, the shakes too, of which you will not be able to stop. Depression is very common. Hmmm, you may also experience fevers and an upset stomach."

Jarlaxle rolled his eyes and leaned against the doors to Sorcere. He was feeling uncomfortable, not in what would happen, but in the way that made him feel as if his body was bloated. He had the uncomfortable thought that perhaps this was how drider felt and shuddered.

"Anything else I should know? How long does it last?"

The wizard shrugged and smiled. "For as long as it lasts."

Jarlaxle scowled and rubbed at his head where a headache was forming. His stomach felt tight and stretched, making him feel very uncomfortable. Shifting on his feet, he sighed. "Is that all the information you have?"

Rizzen nodded, before quickly disappearing back inside the building they were loitering outside of. Both the young drow had known that last nod to be false information, but they needed to get back to Melee-Magthere anyhow. There were still chores they would have to do.

The walk back was done in silence, broken every now and then by another student racing by, or by slight footsteps. Drow are taught to walk silently when young as making sound could end in a very bad way especially if out in the wilds of the Underdark.

Jarlaxle found that walking like he was used to was made difficult. His stomach felt heavy, stretched and sore, his head sounded loud enough with the pounding it was doing that he was amazed that Zaknafein at his side couldn't hear it. What did it matter if he made as much noise as a rothe during mating season? He was also beginning to feel physically ill. To make matters even worse, his back, arms and legs were stiff and sore from the whipping he had last recieved.

"Jarlaxle? You look...pale." Since drow saw through darkvision, it was rather strange to hear that.

He shrugged. "I truly don't think that will stop me from doing chores." The thought of making dinner for the kitchens, no matter how good or bad a cook he may be made his stomach twist. He did not look forward to being in a hot room with the smell of cooking meat and mushrooms being ground into a paste to use as a sause of a kind.

The thought alone made him drop a hand to his stomach and rubbed gently, trying to ease his sudden nausea.

"I think perhaps that I should not be working with the food right now." He stated, but still his feet took him towards the kitchens knowing he at least had to show up. Zaknafein followed, a silent shadow.

By some miracle, because that is what it had to be, Zak watched as his friend made it through the food preparation and disappeared out of the room afterwards.

With speed he didn't know he possessed, he quickly followed, only to hear the unmistakeable sound of someone being violently ill.

He found Jarlaxle near one of the doors to a privy, his body heaving out the breakfast he had eaten earlier that day. The sight made Zak feel slightly ill, but he dropped to a crouch and began to gently rub Jarlaxle's back.

"What is the meaning of this!" came a voice behind him and, turning slowly about, keeping his hand on the quivering back, only to see the master of the kitchens looking down his nose at both of them.

"He is sick, sir. He has been feeling ill to the stomach all day." Zak didn't know if this was true but didn't believe it was, but if the head cook thought someone had poisoned the food, then they would have to start all over again.

The master cook scowled, but moved on, headed in the direction the two young drow had come from. Zak's shoulders lost the tense feeling that was felt. He noted that the same couldn't be said for his friend, who had started to moan in pain.

"Are you alright?" he asked. After a few long minutes, he was given a nod as a reply.

"Slight cramps, nothing I cannot handle."

Zaknafein couldn't help but feel for Jarlaxle at hearing that. He had only stopped taking the potion the night before and already he was experiencing withdrawal.

He began to worry when Jarlaxle curled himself up into a ball and stayed in that position, his fist curling and uncurling through the pain he was in.

"The cramps are just slight are they?" He stated, his voice full of sarcasm. It looked as though they were a bit stronger than that.

"Oh, Gods this hurts. Help me up. I need...need to lie down. On a bed that is."

Zak reached down and grabbed one of those clenching hands and immediately felt fingernails digging into his skin. He didn't cry out loud. He didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to himself and his sore, sick friend.

Shaking himself out of his strange musing, he dragged Jarlaxle to his feet, every inch of the way marked by a slight groan of pain, before they were both on their feet.

The trek to their bunk room was a long one, and the journey was made longer by Jarlaxle, who tried to curl up on himself every few minutes to try and ease the pain. When they finally did arrive and Jarlaxle was curled up into as tight a ball as he could manage, Zaknafein took himself to his own bed and fell upon it, exhausted from the usually much quicker walk.

He soon fell into a deep sleep, the pained groans of Jarlaxle bringing to him strange images in his rest.

A/N - A small chapter, yes? Ah well, sorry about that, but this seemed the perfect place to stop.

Thanks go to those who read and enjoy this story, regardless of how long it is between updates. Sorry, I will reply to replies the next chapter, as I am not doing it today. Just puttign this up and then logging off before my head explodes.


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